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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245352">A Cup of Tea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abradystrix/pseuds/Abradystrix'>Abradystrix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 07:53:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abradystrix/pseuds/Abradystrix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the @romioneficfest 2020 on tumblr - this one went the furthest, and I’m quite proud of it.<br/>Prompt/Day: Arthur’s Shed, Trainers, Day 3<br/>Brief summary: A cup of tea, in the days after the war.<br/>Any possible triggering/warning tags: Mention of war, possible PTSD.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Cup of Tea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermione wasn’t sure exactly how she fit in.</p>
<p>She’d been at the Burrow for two days now, ever since the battle. It had become apparent in their preparations to leave Hogwarts that she didn’t really have a home to go to. Though shocked by the revelation of what had happened to the Grangers, Molly had been unequivocal in her insistence that both Hermione and Harry return to the Burrow as part of the family.</p>
<p>So Hermione did what she could to be useful. She cleared plates, she fed the chickens, she brewed endless cups of tea. She kept a distance from the collective family grief, knowing her place. She did everything she could to show the Weasleys how much their acceptance meant to her.</p>
<p>She was standing in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil once more. The cavernous and pleasingly weathered Weasley teapot sat on the counter, and as Hermione measured out tea leaves, she thought briefly of a classroom full of incense, and a much simpler time.</p>
<p>Slowly she filled the pot with water, stirring methodically. She poured three mugs - one for herself, and one each for Ron and his father, who were in the shed. Molly had taken to bed for the afternoon, and Harry and Ginny had disappeared to the orchard.</p>
<p>She levitated the cups and made her way out the back door and across the yard. The door was ajar, and she called out a gentle greeting as she crossed the threshold. Ron and his father looked up, and she was struck by how similar they looked in that moment, and saddened by how much of that resemblance was held in the sadness of their eyes and the slump in their posture.</p>
<p>Ron stood leaning against one of the counters that ran along the walls, while Mr Weasley perched on a stool, crouched over his workbench. He had a screwdriver in one hand and a wand in the other, and was playing with what appeared to be an old Muggle kettle. Ron’s arms were crossed and he was looking at his father with a mix of affection and amusement.</p>
<p>‘Oh, tea! Lovely, thanks Hermione.’ Mr Weasley smiled at her, his face tired.</p>
<p>She moved to stand next to Ron, her hands wrapped around her own mug.</p>
<p>‘What, none for me?’ Ron frowned.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes and smiled.</p>
<p>‘Are you a wizard or not?’</p>
<p>‘Oh yeah.’</p>
<p>He summoned his own mug, and despite a liberal sloshing of tea over the side, it arrived intact. They sipped in silence for a moment, watching Mr Weasley prodding at the inside of the kettle, inspecting the element. His heart didn’t seem to be in it.</p>
<p>‘How are you both?’ He asked suddenly, setting both his tools down.</p>
<p>Hermione was a little taken aback by the question. Ron stiffened slightly.</p>
<p>‘We’re… I’m… okay.’ She said, meekly, feeling the scar on her neck burn with the lie. Ron wrapped an arm around her and squeezed.</p>
<p>‘You’ve been through so much.’ Mr Weasley said simply, his eyes trained on them. ‘It’s perfectly fine to not be.’</p>
<p>‘We know,’ said Ron, gruffly. ‘But we will be.’</p>
<p>Again, Mr Weasley looked at them with a deep sadness in his eyes. He stood slowly and picked up his mug.</p>
<p>‘I think I’m going to go and check on the chickens. Let you two have some quiet time.’</p>
<p>‘But it’s your shed!’ Hermione cried, feeling oddly awkward.</p>
<p>‘I know,’ he replied, ‘but it’s your home too.’</p>
<p>With that he left, pausing only to clap a hand to Ron’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Ron turned to look down at her.</p>
<p>‘He’s not okay.’</p>
<p>She put down her mug, and wrapped her arms around him.</p>
<p>‘He will be.’</p>
<p>Ron’s voice is low in his chest as he presses her to him.</p>
<p>‘I found blood on my trainers this morning. From the battle.’</p>
<p>She feels a pang in her stomach and holds him closer still.</p>
<p>‘It — it brought it all back. The sounds. The smells. Fred.’</p>
<p>Her eyes are burning now. She wishes she could just make it all better somehow.</p>
<p>‘I couldn’t get it off.’ His voice is cracking. ’So I just burned them. Out by the chickens. Dad found me. So he took me here to show me some stuff to take my mind off it.’</p>
<p>‘Did it?’</p>
<p>‘I still don’t know how electricity works, if that’s what you mean.’</p>
<p>She laughs gently, relieved to hear him attempting a joke. She looks up at him, with his red eyes brimming. She lets him hold her around the waist as she moves her hands up to his face, rubbing his cheeks gently. He leans into her touch.</p>
<p>She steps up on her toes and presses a kiss to his mouth. He reciprocates gently, his hands pressing into her back.</p>
<p>‘We will be okay,’ she says, softly. ‘I promise.‘</p>
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